I Just Wanna Make Love To You
by fiery.fallen.angel
Summary: At the Runway Christmas party, Miranda is determined to catch the eye of one person in particular; her assistant, Andrea. At the same time, Irv is determined to ruin her night. ""You'll be standing under that mistletoe for a long time Miranda. Alone."


Miranda Priestly always gets what she wants.

At least, so it would seem. This was the train of thought speeding through the fashion queen's mind when she went to bed every evening, alongside the picture of the girl she refused to name even in the privacy of her own mind. It was unusual, therefore, that Miranda's hands were gripping her sheets as she cursed the very name into oblivion. _Andrea Sachs_.

She would not succumb to the feelings she had for the girl – she scoffed at the word 'feelings', Miranda Priestly didn't have 'feelings' for anyone! Such things were a waste of time and energy, beneath such a woman. Except they weren't. And it was this exact argument that the small voice which was, ordinarily, so easily silenced, was shouting through her mind, echoing her body's response to the tension which coursed through her veins anytime she set eyes on the girl. Unfortunately for Miranda, it was often. This did not, however, mean she would sink as low as to… she couldn't even think the word, to rid herself of her discomfort, most of which was constantly in a knot of frustration between her thighs.

Across town, Andrea Sachs had no such qualms. Seeing the Editor working at her desk day in, day out, ensured that even if she didn't want to be, she would end up in this exact position every night. She would slide under her covers as though she was simply planning on going to sleep. For the first few weeks, she at least pretended to herself that that was her plan – now, she had given up the pretence, her hand sneaking between her thighs immediately in an attempt to rid herself of a borderline-obsessive addiction to her boss. She sighed at how aroused she was, burying her fingers quickly, still somewhat embarrassed by what she had been reduced to every single night.

_December 20__th__._

Miranda was well aware of the date, as were her employees. Today was the day of the Runway Christmas party, an annual event Miranda despised. It didn't stop her from cutting her workers a little slack and relaxing for the evening, knowing that because the December issue always had an early release, she had plenty of time to perfect January's issue. This did mean that the December issue was usually an enormous pressure for Miranda, which equalled a nightmare bitch boss for all Runway workers. Not that that was Miranda's problem. She was due to arrive at nine thirty exactly; everyone else having arrived before her so she could make her entrance just as impressive as every other year. She never failed to enjoy the collective intake of breath in the room as she descended the stairs, and this year would be no different. Other than the fact that, this year, she would actually be trying to impress one individual in particular. She couldn't explain why, nor would she ever attempt to – why should she start now? – but she was determined to have Andrea staring at her all night. Preferably with unrestrained adoration and lust in her eyes. Miranda's mouth formed a small unimpressed pout at her thoughts as her car pulled up outside the building inside which all of her co-workers and employees were waiting with excitement, if only just to see what the Ice Queen was wearing for the night.

Andrea was torn. She desperately wanted to leave, knowing that she wouldn't be able to avoid becoming intoxicated and possibly embarrassing herself in front of Miranda, but at the same time she was rooted to the spot, staring. She didn't stand out from the crowd, their positions mirroring hers exactly; silent, frozen and watching the very personification of beauty descend the steps towards them. _Here we go_, she thought as her muscles tightened in response to the view.

Miranda had been looking for her assistant for almost an hour before she spotted her. For once, she was thankful that although everyone dressed as though it was a formal event, as time and alcohol increased, the music volume did too. People lost their inhibitions, dancing and kissing passionately everywhere Miranda looked. She knew she could never drop her mask, but _for once_ it would be nice to just be able to let loose in the same way. It would certainly get Andrea's attention if she danced to _this_ song. She barely even knew what it was, only that her girls had listened to it constantly a few years ago. She still wasn't sure if she liked them describing her as "bootylicious". The song changed to a slightly easier beat and, with yet another champagne flute in her hand, she suddenly decided that dancing with Andrea would probably go unnoticed. It seemed as though everyone's sexuality was uninhibited for the night, she thought as she spotted Emily and Serena pressed close together on the dance floor, lips pressed tightly against each other. Nigel was in a similar position right next to them, with some new designer who had been introduced to the art department a few months ago. She smiled a little. She could use the amount of alcohol everyone had consumed to her advantage. _Finally_, she spotted Andrea. Without a word, she walked up to the bar stool the girl was perched precariously on, glugging down a cocktail, and held out her hand.

It took a minute for Andy's alcohol-soaked brain to realise what was happening, but she did as soon as she heard Miranda utter the words she thought she would never want to hear again. "By all means, move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me." Andy grabbed Miranda's proffered hand in both of hers, and allowed herself to be escorted to a more private area. Her brain had stopped functioning as Miranda's hands wrapped around her waist, after the Ice Queen had placed her own on her shoulders. Had it been in working order, she would have probably not known what to do in this situation. "Naughty Girl" by Beyonce was playing, a song Andy loved – but had never imagined dancing with Miranda to. Well, she had, but she had never imagined it would come true at the Runway Christmas party, for crying out loud!

_At least the music has improved_, Miranda thought as Etta James' version of "I Just Wanna Make Love To You" began. Andrea's face was closer to hers than it ever had been, their eyes never leaving each other's. Miranda leaned forward, as though she was about to kiss Andrea, and noticed the welcoming response she received with a smirk. She had a better idea for the moment.

"_I don't want you sad and blue, I just wanna make love to you…"_ she sang gently into Andrea's ear, mouthing the words clearly against her earlobe, enjoying the hands tightening round her neck and the simultaneous shiver that ran down both their spines. She never would remember just how long they stayed dancing like this, only that it had to be at least an hour.

One of the best things about the Runway Christmas party was that there were no cameras allowed. None of the events that occurred would ever be official, in a sense, because they would never be documented other than by word of mouth. It was this thought that Miranda clung to soon after Irv Ravitz drunkenly stumbled towards her as the clock neared midnight. She stepped apart from Andrea hastily, but he hadn't even noticed their surely inappropriate stance. Miranda moved towards him with a false smile gracing her features, determined to get rid of him quickly, shooting a wink to Andrea as she did so.

"Oh look, Miranda… you're under mistletoe now." He slurred out his words, leering at Miranda's body. "Divorce number four's just been finalized.. I bet you'd let anyone kiss you now, wouldn't you?"

Miranda was aware of her assistants body tensing behind her, she could feel the anger radiating off her in waved. Miranda herself, however, was unaffected.

"Oh Irv. I didn't get dubbed 'The Ice Queen' for no reason. I will always have more class to behave in such a manner with just anyone, not that I should feel the need to explain that to you," she took a threatening step closer to him, "you pathetic, withering little man. If you ever so much as look at me inappropriately again, I will have you fired and I _will_ see you in court. Understand?"

He swallowed, uncomfortable for a second, before becoming supremely angry as her last words sunk in.

"You'll be standing under that mistletoe for a long time Miranda. Alone." He raised his voice to a shout, "this is what happens when you're a bitch to everyone; nobody will kiss you."

Lucky for him, the music had gotten still louder before his shout, and there was no one close enough in the vicinity to hear what he had said. Except for Andy.

"That man really is wrong about every tiny detail, isn't he?" she murmured into Miranda's ear from behind.

"Actually, so far he's been right. Here I am, under the mistletoe. Alone. With nobody kissing me. I would say that's a fairly accurate account of the circumstances, wouldn't you?" Miranda muttered dryly.

Spinning her round, Andrea pressed her mouth to her boss's, and pulling her into a darkened corner.

Miranda was surprised, to say the least. She had thought that Andrea would have to be encouraged to do such a thing to her, yet here she was, pressed against a wall with her arms above her head and Andrea ravaged her neck, moving quickly to her chest. Miranda couldn't help but gasp and moan a little at the things Andrea's mouth was doing to her skin, but reality kicked in quickly.

"An..Andrea… we need to leave, before someone sees…"

"Leave?"

Miranda hastened to add that they would be leaving together.

At this, Andrea smiled widely, grabbing Miranda's hips and pulling her forwards, holding her hand as they wandered through the dancing crowd.

Having forgotten to ask one of her assistants to call Roy (mostly because she was busy seducing one for most of the night), the two women had to wait outside for no more than 3 minutes for the driver to take them to somewhere considerably more private. It was long enough, however, for Miranda to give back some of what she got from Andrea just minutes before, nibbling at her ears and neck, hands gripping the girls thighs underneath her dress. Thankfully, the journey home was no more than 5 minutes, but Miranda kept her control as she ran her hands up and down Andrea's thigh on the way to the house. Andrea, however, was gripping the seat in obvious desire, her eyes tightly closed, teeth sinking into her bottom lip so as to stop from making a sound.

Miranda was feeling naughty, more unmerciful that ever but in such a different way, as she dragged her fingers higher on Andrea's thighs, underneath her dress, grazing against the lace that covered where Andrea needed her touch most. At this, Andrea let out a little squeak, her eyes flying open as she turned round to face Miranda. Both women were flushed when they stepped out of the car, almost running to the front door, which Miranda found herself pressed to as soon as it was closed behind them. Andrea's hands removed her dress easily, revenge for the car journey, gasping at the corset Miranda had been wearing all night under her strapless dress. She pulled at the lace ties and the garment loosened enough for it to be slid over Miranda's hips, leaving her in nothing but her heels and her panties, kissing her lips the whole time. Their tongues slid over each other easily, gasping into each other's mouths. It was only when Miranda gently pushed Andrea away that they broke apart completely, panting lightly.

"Upstairs." Miranda ordered, some remnants of dignity still intact, despite being almost naked and oh-so aroused because of her assistant.

They hit the king size bed with a thud, Andrea having been ordered to rid her clothing on the way up, fingers stroking each other sensually. They sat up; Miranda straddling Andrea's outstretched thighs, and simultaneously moved their hands to touch a clit, gasping at the friction. They both needed more, neither could wait, and so they didn't. They moved in unison, each pushing one finger inside the other, quickly moving to two and beginning to move inside each other. They pressed their upper bodies tightly together, the sensation of their breasts rubbing against each other making the moment even more sensual. Their orgasms were both moaned into the others mouth as they kissed passionately.

Miranda, however, was not finished. For now, she was satisfied in her own pleasure, but she wanted to give Andrea more.

It was all Andrea could do to watch as Miranda's head dipped between her thighs, the feel of her breath making Andrea moan in pleasure, the touch of a tongue to a clit making the moan louder. Miranda gripped her hips and pulled Andrea closer still, tasting her. Andrea didn't last long when Miranda pushed her tongue inside her.

By the time the next Runway Christmas party rolled around, Miranda and Andrea lived together, both wearing a ring on their wedding finger given by the other. For tonight though, and for every year afterwards, they would remove them, get ready in separate apartments and arrive separately. It was Miranda's idea, one that Andrea was all too happy to go along with. The recreation of their anniversary, down to every last detail. This year, however, Miranda would be getting kissed under the mistletoe in view of everyone in attendance. After all, Miranda Priestly always gets what she wants.


End file.
